


Swing Into Flight

by whenidance



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Rock Stars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-07
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-28 12:52:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/674601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenidance/pseuds/whenidance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first, Blaine thinks it’s crazy to play three shows in Ohio. Sure, it’s his home state, but are Cincinnati, Columbus, and Cleveland all really necessary? It doesn’t matter, because in the end, Ohio is where Blaine spots <i>him</i>. The elusive boy who manages to avoid him almost entirely despite coming to all three concerts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (Inspired by this [gifset](http://whenidance.org/post/42506933680) [gifs from tonight's ep within link] and [Megan's](http://devonwood.tumblr.com) prompts - Happy birthday Megan!) Thanks to [Kerry](http://suchalilyofthevalley.tumblr.com), [Jenny](http://dahlstrom.tumblr.com), and [Carrie](http://wordplaying.tumblr.com) for the hand-holding and betaing. Also thanks to Howie Day who I stole and changed lyrics from to make one of Blaine's songs when I realized I wasn't a song writer, and to Kerry in that regard too. The second half of this should be up next week. Also warning for age difference (22/17).

At first, Blaine thinks it’s crazy to play three shows in Ohio. Sure, it’s his home state, but are Cincinnati, Columbus, and Cleveland all really necessary? When they all sell out, his manager, Susan, just says she told him so, but it doesn’t matter, because in the end, Ohio is where Blaine spots _him_. The elusive boy who manages to avoid him almost entirely despite coming to all three concerts.

Blaine first sees him in Cincinnati, off to the right of the stage with a whole group of kids who went all out costume-wise (they _all_ look high school aged, which means he’s probably as young as he looks, pity), though his is obviously the best. Strong silver shoulders, and fingerless gloves, and a white wig even - the girl with the pink eyelashes has nothing on him. She’s smart though, because when Blaine blinks at him during “Don’t Sweat The Haters,” she nudges him with her shoulder even though the boy’s eyes never leave Blaine’s.

When Blaine rushes backstage for a costume change, he grabs Susan and pulls her aside. “Hey - those kids in the corner. The girl in the pink and the boy in the silver, all of them. Tell Rob they’re the ones for backstage.” Like many other pop stars before him, Blaine has a standing rule that people who dress up for his concerts have a chance to be chosen to come backstage. Sometimes his bodyguard, Rob, randomly picks people, but every once in a while (like tonight) Blaine will tell him ahead of time.

“Oh, you mean the kid you’ve been eyefucking half the night? Subtle, Blaine,” Susan teases, tossing Blaine his feathered jacket and smirking.

“Shut _up_!” he retorts, running his fingers through his hair once the stylist leaves his side.

Unfortunately, after the concert, the boy in the silver isn’t with Rob as he escorts a bunch of concert-goers to the room they’re using for meet and greets that night. None of the kids [from that group are, and when Blaine looks over at Rob, he just winces and shrugs his shoulders apologetically. Blaine pastes on a smile, and greets his fans, forgetting all about him until he’s alone in his hotel room much later that night.

Blaine’s alone more often than not, not for lack of options (obviously - he sells out mid-size arenas almost every night and has girls _and_ boys throwing themselves at him), but because touring is _tiring_. Someone’s got to really grab his interest for him to put out the effort.

Seeing as the boy in silver is still on his mind … he would have been worth the effort.

_Fuck._

Blaine rolls over on the bed and grabs his phone. He hasn’t tweeted about tonight’s show yet, and he tries to tweet about every concert. He already did a few earlier today about being back home in Ohio, but he should definitely mention the show.

 _cincinnati you were on fire tonight! saw some stunning silver in a sea of spectacular spectators …_ followed by _wonder if columbus can top them? :)_

He usually doesn’t tweet about specific costumes he’s seen, but he has before, so at least it won’t look out of place, plus it’s vague enough. He throws his phone on the other side of the bed, vowing not to look through his replies, because he’s sure if the boy in silver doesn’t reply, one of his friends most certainly will, and the last thing he needs to spend his night doing is creeping on some assumed-high school kid’s twitter account. Tomorrow will be another city, and hopefully another, more age-appropriate boy will catch his eye. And if not, there will be another city after that, and another, and another.

Blaine doesn’t expect the boy in silver to show up in Columbus. Alone. In the front row of the general admission section. In painted-on gold pants.

When he sees him, Blaine almost forgets the next line of his opening number.

It’s not a costume, per se; it’s just a lot of tight clothing, a tight white short-sleeved tee and the pants, but the boy’s features are highlighted this way. Blaine can see his hair is brown now, swept away from his face, and he notices the brightness of his eyes. He can see the muscles of his arms, the way his hands are gripping the metal bar in front of him separating the fans from the stage. He can see his thighs encased in the gold fabric since there’s no one in front of him, aside from when Rob walks back and forth, thighs that would feel amazing under his fingertips -

Blaine shakes his head and almost laughs, right in the middle of “(I Was A) Diva In My Mind,” because this kid is going to make him mess up the whole damn set. He’s twenty-two, he’s been in the business since he was eighteen and he’s been performing _way_ longer, and he’s never messed up a set. The boy must have an idea of what he’s done, because when the song is over, Blaine throws a glance his way and the boy ducks his head, blushing all the way to his hairline.

“Make sure Rob grabs the kid in gold pants, I don’t care if he’s not wearing a costume,” Blaine growls to Susan backstage during a costume change - he doesn’t want to miss his chance again.

Unfortunately, the boy leaves before the encore. Blaine’s not sure what he did in a past life that he’s paying for now, but he’s truly sorry. He doesn’t even know if the kid is gay, of course. Blaine almost always assumes because he rarely has fans that _are_ both straight and male, but he can’t get the boy off his brain.

Back in his hotel room later that night, he wonders if the boy will be in Cleveland the next day. Of course, he has no idea where the kid lives, but Cincinnati and Columbus are closer together than Cleveland, and they were also on Friday and Saturday nights, even though it is summer. He knows Susan will give him so much shit for it in the morning - hell, there’s a chance she’ll call within fifteen minutes after he tweets - but it’s worth the chance. He knows fans are going to analyze his tweets and he wonders if there’s enough concert footage out there from the right angles for them to come to the right conclusions.

He doesn’t really care.

Blaine ponders exactly what to say for a moment before grabbing his phone and opening the twitter app. _do you ever have something you want just out of your reach? bah! curses! foiled again!_ He’s not sure whether the use of the word ‘want’ is too crass, but in the end, honestly, it’s the truth and it’s easily blown off as something much more PG. He waits a few minutes so people aside from the boy might think the tweets aren’t related and then continues with _anyway, columbus, you were GOLD tonight! hopefully you could tell from the smile on my face the whole time!_ followed by his standard reminder about costumes getting picked for backstage access, which he hasn’t done in a few weeks, adding that people are often grabbed after the show so don’t be so quick to rush out.

The next day, on the drive to Cleveland, Blaine asks Rob, “I know I sound like a creep, but the guy from the past two nights? You know what he looks like, right?”

When Rob nods, Blaine scrubs a hand over his face and sighs. “If you see him tonight, can you invite him backstage _before_ the show starts?”

As Blaine gets ready, he’s nervous. He hasn’t been nervous before a show in a while, and he can tell people are starting to get annoyed with him. Finally, Susan calls him to the edge of the wings where they can just barely see the corner of the crowd and _there he is_.

“That’s him, right? Before Rob asks some random babyfaced bozo backstage?” she drawls, clearly enjoying this all too much. She’d already given him a lecture on best tweeting practices so now she’s back to ribbing him over the whole thing.

“Yes! _Yes_.” He’s a few rows back, but Blaine can make out his face perfectly, talking with a couple of the girls from the other night, including the pink eyelashes one. Susan is about to relay this over her earpiece when Blaine steals it from her ear and shoos her off before she can even protest. “Rob! That’s him.”

“You’re going to listen to make sure I talk to him this time, aren’t you?” Rob says, turning back towards the stage and squinting, as if he’s trying to make Blaine out and shaking his head in disbelief. “I’ll turn up the volume on my mic so maybe you’ll be able to hear him too.”

“I - thanks, Rob.” He knows he shouldn’t be listening, but he can’t help himself.

Blaine watches as he makes his way over to the crowd and points the boy out, motioning for him to come over to the side of the barricades. The girls hold their place as he moves toward Rob and finally, Blaine hears Rob say, “You’ve been making the last few days miserable for me, kid.”

“Excuse me?”

Blaine’s not sure what Rob did to his earpiece, but he can hear his mystery boy’s voice clearly on his end over the hum of the stadium in the background, thousands of people filing in around them, and it’s _perfect_.

“Mr. Anderson would like to invite you backstage. Your friends too, if they want.”

The boy glances down at what he’s wearing - it looks like a lot of black to Blaine, aside from what looks like the same white shirt as last night with a leather jacket on top, and then says, “But I’m not really wearing a costume. We didn’t have time to put anything together with the drive -”

“Yeah, Mr. Anderson doesn’t care about that with you.” Blaine can tell from Rob’s tone of voice he’s finding all of this very amusing.

The boy sucks in a sharp breath and breathes out, “I didn’t think any of that was _real_. I thought …” He motions for one of the girls to come over and he whispers sharply to her, “You were right, I was invited backstage. Do you and Quinn want to -”

“No boy, this is all you. You go on without us,” she says, patting his shoulder before making her way back through the crowd.

“Uh, I guess it’s just me then,” the boy says to Rob with a laugh, and Blaine wants to listen to him laugh all night.

“Good. Don’t run off on me again, ya hear? Meet me back here when the show’s over, and let me have a name for the list backstage.”

“Oh, right. Kurt. Kurt Hummel.”

Kurt. Blaine smiles to himself and pulls out the earpiece, walking off to find Susan and return it, finally calm enough to finish getting ready for the show.

***

Later, Blaine rushes through his post-show routine, checking off as many things as possible that normally would be taken care of after the meet and greet. Tonight’s was actually the best out of the three Ohio shows in Blaine’s opinion, and he’s not sure if it was the energy from the crowd or the euphoric feeling that settled in his chest the moment he realized he’ll finally be meeting Kurt, but he and his backup singers and dancers played off each other more than they have in a while and the crowd ate it all up. It was harder to see Kurt than previous nights, but that was probably for the best, because he was able to focus his attention fully on performing.

It’s been a long tour, seven and a half weeks, which is far longer than his previous two. After tonight, they thankfully have a bit of a break. They’re off until Thursday, and then they have fifteen more stops to hit along the East Coast. They had four days off in Canada three weeks ago, but aside from that, it’s only been a spare day here and there. Perhaps his teammates are ready for a little bit of a break too, Blaine thinks as he changes into a fresh pair of pants and shirt to meet his fans. He knows the singers and dancers are headed out to one of the local bars and celebrate their freedom, let loose a little, and if Kurt hadn’t shown up, he’d probably be joining them.

But he had.

Blaine’s starting to freak out a little as continues to freshen up. He’s not really sure what his game plan is. He doesn’t want to just get into Kurt’s pants - he’s not even sure if he’ll let himself get that far since he doesn’t know how old Kurt is. Blaine has a pretty hard and fast eighteen-and-over rule that he doesn’t let himself break, but then again, he’s throwing out all the other rules with this kid so far. With the few hookups he’s had on the tours, there’s been _some_ sort of signal from them beforehand that they were both on the same page. Blaine hasn’t gotten that here. Maybe that’s his issue. Sure, Kurt accepted his backstage offer, but perhaps that’s all he wants. A photo with a star.

The meet and greets are always held in a room that’s been set up by Claudette, Blaine’s photographer. She takes down everyone’s information ahead of time so she knows where to email copies of the photos she takes to and her assistant, Em, takes everyone’s phones and cameras away from them before entering and returns them when they leave. Rob is the one to bring everyone in and Susan is the one to make the introductions - if someone was pulled from the audience, or if they won a contest through the local radio station, or if someone has an extra special story.

They all know Blaine’s story. The gay kid beaten up at his school dance who became a buttoned-up, private school a capella show choir star and was discovered at eighteen in LA over spring break at karaoke while he was visiting his brother. In four years, Blaine’s somehow gained two albums, three world tours, and millions of fans from places he didn’t know existed. His critics say his act is bipolar, that Blaine doesn’t know who he is as an artist, because half the time he’s on stage in flamboyant clothes and high energy numbers before switching speeds and coming out dressed as a regular guy and toning it down - but that’s _the point_. He’s showing the world it’s fine to get dressed up and have fun and still be yourself underneath; that it’s fine to have both sides inside of you and not have to choose. So many kids can relate to that and tell him that all the time.

For those few minutes when a fan is in front of him, Blaine’s story doesn’t matter, and all that does is the story of whoever’s in front of him. He’s heard thousands of stories over the years about how he inspires these kids, and he’s really not joking when he tells people his fans inspire him more than anything, that they’re the reason he keeps going.

Rob brings back about fifteen people tonight, and Kurt is at the end of the pack. Blaine meets his eye briefly, but then turns his attention to the girl at the very front of the line who has turquoise extensions in her hair. He greets each and every one of them with a hug and talks with each fan charismatically before posing for photos. Most people are there in pairs, one group of three and the turquoised-hair girl all by herself, and as the group of three is walking out the door to retrieve their belongings from Em, Blaine hears Susan say behind him, “And this, Blaine, is the illustrious Kurt Hummel.”

Blaine swivels on the heel of his studded oxford, and there he is, just as stunning inches from Blaine’s face as he’d been in the crowd. Even more so, actually … is that _eyeliner_? “Kurt. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

Kurt stands there slack-jawed for a moment before finally saying, “Isn’t that my line?” Blaine grins wildly and pulls him into a hug, just as he had everyone else, but can’t help holding him a little tighter and rubbing his palm over Kurt’s back, over the cool leather of his jacket.

“Do you have to get back to your friends right this second?” Blaine asks softly, and Kurt looks confused for a moment, but then shakes his head. It’s been over an hour since the concert ended at this point, but really, it serves them right for not coming. Blaine’s decided he doesn’t want to talk to Kurt here, not in front of all these people. “Good. Let’s take this photo and then you could walk with me, if that’s alright?”

“Uh … sure …” Kurt replies as Blaine pulls back, still looking a little dazed, so Blaine grabs his hand and leads him over to the photo backdrop, swinging his arm around his shoulders just as he had in all of the other photos. Blaine can hear Kurt’s unsteady breathing and how hard he’s working to calm it and he can see out of the corner of his eye how Kurt’s perfectly plump lips are curling up into a smile -

“Okay you two, let me take another, you blinked, Blaine,” Claudette says, sticking her tongue out at them. Blaine knows he didn’t blink, but he figures Kurt is still looking completely shocked and Claudette didn’t want to call him out. “Big smiles, please and thank you!”

“Thank _you_ , Claudette,” Blaine says when she’s done, rushing over to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Enjoy your time off and see you in Philly.”

Susan’s already been told to leave him alone for the most part until he contacts her tomorrow, barring any emergencies, so he gives her a quick wave, to which she returns with a wink. “Okay, come on, this way.” Blaine heads towards the door and motions for Kurt, who jumps a little and follows Blaine quickly through it. “Em, Kurt’s phone please,” Blaine requests before telling her goodnight as well, and Rob follows them out of the door, but stays far behind them to give them some privacy as they walk through the halls of the backstage area.

Blaine holds up a finger as they quickly make two sharp turns and head through a door that requires keycard access. Once they’re inside, he speaks again. “Sorry about that,” he sighs. Now that they’re in this part of the building, everyone who’s still here works for him and therefore, he feels much more comfortable talking to Kurt. He stops to address Kurt directly, giving him a bright smile, since they’ve been rushing since he first was introduced to him. “Again, I’m really, really glad you’re here. Did you enjoy the show?”

Kurt smiles back at him, all genuine and far less shocked and nervous now that he has a better handle on things, Blaine supposes. “Yeah, it was wonderful. _You_ were wonderful. I’m really glad we came, we didn’t have tickets until like, six hours ago. We met some guy at a Starbucks we found on Craigslist,” he adds with a laugh, and oh. Kurt hadn’t planned on coming, which means his tweeting actually _worked_? No wonder he wasn’t right up front tonight. Damn. But that also means -

“I hope the guy didn’t rip you off,” Blaine comments with a frown, motioning for Kurt to start walking again towards his dressing room. He hates to see scalpers taking advantage of his fans at all, even though he knows it’s part of the business, but if Kurt and his friends paid an ungodly amount of money just because he and Blaine kept missing each other …

It’s Kurt’s turn to break into a giant smile. “No, we actually talked him down to just a little bit above face value because three tickets is such a random number to have to get rid of and it was like an hour before the doors opened. All of us have pretty serious bitch faces when we need to, so it wasn’t that difficult. We were originally just going to stay in Columbus and go shopping today before driving back home, but then, well … let’s just say everyone involved was pretty persuasive.” Kurt glances over at Blaine as they turn another corner, and Blaine notices that his cheeks are flushed. “Can I - I don’t mean to be overly cautious but where are we going?”

Blaine slows to walk closer to Kurt. “Oh! Sorry, I live in my head a lot, industry hazard. I just - I wanted to talk to you for more than three minutes and not in front of my whole staff, if that was alright? Because - I can’t even explain why, but you’ve wormed your way into my brain, and now you’re finally here, and that sounds totally horrible saying it out loud, I’m sorry. I was just hoping to talk to you for a bit, Kurt.”

Kurt ducks his head as they continue walking, grinning again, and says, “I wasn’t sure. Your friend back there asked me if I was gay or not. He said you just assume all of your guy fans are and he didn’t want you to make a fool out of yourself.”

Blaine snaps his head forward and god, now he’s blushing. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t blushed so hard in five years. “I’m going to kill Rob,” he mutters as they continue down the hallway, but Kurt just laughs. “So, ah, you said you drove over from Columbus today?” Blaine finally says, clearing his throat and changing the subject, and thankfully, Kurt goes with it.

“Yeah. We don’t even have a place to stay yet for tonight, hopefully one of the motels along 90 or 71 will have a vacancy.”

Blaine stops in his tracks. He knows the next offer that’s about to come out of his mouth is crossing so many boundaries, but it’s after eleven and he doesn’t really want to send three teenagers out into greaterCleveland and hope they find a room for the night in a sketchy motel. “You don’t have a place to stay? And there’s three of you?” When Kurt confirms, Blaine surges on, “We have extra rooms at the hotel we’re at. Rob can take your friends over now and it wouldn’t be any trouble, and then I’ll feel slightly better about you having to buy more tickets and drive all the way up here from Columbus just because I made some stupid tweets about seeing a really cute guy in the audience.”

Kurt blushes even more furiously at the _really cute_ comment. “We - I didn’t mean - we can’t impose -”

Blaine furrows his brow and narrows his eyes, glancing at him like he’s ridiculous. “You’re not imposing, they’re already paid for.” It isn’t entirely true, but Blaine’s management usually does work out a deal to not rent out the rooms on the floor they stay on to regular guests unless absolutely necessary, so there will at least be a room available.

“Do you _normally_ put cute guys up in your hotel? You do realize how that sounds?” The shock of Blaine’s offer has worn off, and Kurt’s eyeing him a little warily.

“ _Yes_ , but have you even been to Cleveland before? What if you end up in a bad part of town? What if something were to happen to you guys, and it was all my fault because you weren’t even planning on coming and you happened to fall into some unseemly company because you didn’t book a hotel room ahead of time?”

Kurt stares at him for a good long while before saying, “So, you’re just worrying about our well-being? Like my _father_ or something?” The corner of his mouth twitches up into a half smile.

_And get to know you and maybe get into your pants and hopefully not come off like a major creep, but details._ Blaine keeps that part to himself. “Precisely! Is that alright? You don’t want me worrying all night if you guys are okay, do you? I wouldn’t sleep at all. It would be horrible.”

Blaine gives him his most charming smile, and Kurt scoffs and says, “You are the weirdest celebrity I’ve ever met, Blaine Anderson. You’re also the only one, because I’m pretty sure April Rhodes doesn’t count, but … _oh my god_.”

Blaine grins even wider, thrilled at getting his way. He backtracks a little to peek around the corner and see if Rob is still trailing them. “Rob!” Blaine shouts when he spots him, motioning for him to come over.

“Rob, Kurt and his dear friends ….”

He trails off, waiting for Kurt to supply the girls’ names. “Oh! Quinn and Mercedes.” Kurt’s back to looking a little overwhelmed.

“Kurt, Quinn, and Mercedes don’t have a place to stay tonight, so I’d like you to set them up in one of the rooms on our floor. They’re waiting in the lobby, right?” After a nod from Kurt, Blaine adds, “So maybe you could take them over now and get them set up so they don’t have to keep waiting.”

“Of … course. A word first though, Blaine?” The two of them step around the corner and Rob glares at him. “Do you know what a nightmare this could be, Blaine? How do we know these kids aren’t going to broadcast where we’re staying to the internet? What makes you want to trust them?”

“Because he tried to protest taking the room when I offered it. He was actually suspicious of it, truth be told. And, honestly, so what if they do? Some teenagers show up in the lobby and you throw them out, that’s what I pay you for.” Blaine claps Rob on the shoulder and smiles before turning on his heel and walking back to Kurt. “I’m guessing you guys have a car? So Mercedes and Quinn can just follow Rob back to the hotel.”

“Yeah - that, that’s fine. What about me?” Kurt asks, and oh god, he’s so adorable, Blaine can’t get over it.

Blaine tilts his head to the side, still smiling and replies, “Well, I have to go there eventually, and you can just come with me, if that’s okay.”

Kurt just ducks his head and fumbles in the pocket of his black jeans for his phone (they’re tight, oh god, but not as tight as his gold pants the night before). “I should probably call Mercedes and fill her in.”

Blaine takes a few steps away as to try not to eavesdrop but he can’t really help it when Kurt is whispering fiercely into the phone. “Mercedes! The bodyguard from earlier, Rob, he’s coming up to meet you and take you back to the hotel everyone’s staying at, they’re putting us up in a room … _I know, shut up, just go with it_ , the chance of them killing us isn’t any higher than whatever horrible motel we found that would ignore our birthda- … yes, you get to drive my car, but _just this once_ , and if you do anything to it I don’t know how to fix, I’m going to kill you. Just go and get settled and I’ll text you later. Yeah … _yes_ … no! I’m hanging up on you now!”

“Everything okay?” Blaine asks amusedly as he walks back over to Kurt and on towards his dressing room.

“Yes … sorry … this is all just …” Kurt trails off, biting the corner of his lip as they finally arrived at the right door.

“Insane?” Blaine supplies, opening it for him and motioning for him to step inside. “Do you like coffee? I always have some after a show, it’s not like I can sleep anyway.” Blaine walks over to the self-serve coffee maker and makes a selection for himself as he grabs two mugs from the shelf.

“Coffee would be great,” Kurt says as he has a seat on the couch.

“Sorry, I’m gonna change too if you don’t mind,” Blaine adds, grabbing the tee and sweatpants he wore to the arena and stepping behind the partition on the far side of the room. He notices Kurt’s eyes widen a bit as he diverts his gaze and he really didn’t think that through, he supposes, but those damn leather pants he wore for the meet and greet photos are _so_ uncomfortable.

Blaine’s not a pop star who keeps his stage presence on constantly - he has no issue with dressing down, especially when he’s just running to and from rehearsal or a show. He’s probably accumulated almost a dozen pairs of these stupid sweatpants at this point - because honestly, when he found a style that made his ass look this amazing, he had to buy multiples. If you’re going to dress down, at least look good while doing it. “So, Kurt, if you’re not actually from Columbus or Cleveland, where are you from? I would hope it’s somewhere in Ohio at least,” he teases as he slowly peels the pants down his legs.

“I’m from Lima,” Kurt says. “I’m in high school there. My friends and I are all in glee club, and our costumes on Friday were for an assignment - theatricality.”

Blaine grins as he pulls the faded Dalton tee over his head and walks back to the other side. “Your costumes were seriously amazing. Yours was the best one of them all. Rob wanted to bring you backstage that night, all of you, but he couldn’t find you after the show was over. Cream or sugar?” Kurt nods and Blaine stirs up their coffee before handing him a mug and sitting in a chair across from the couch.

“Rachel … everyone would kill Rachel if they knew. We had to rush out because she was being a drama queen … and then last night I was kind of freaked out being in Columbus by myself, so I left before the encore so I wouldn’t have a problem in the parking lot. The girls drove with me to Columbus but they just kept me company on the drive and like I said, we were just all going to go shopping today. They didn’t have tickets to the concert. I didn’t want to have any trouble with anything since I was alone, I don’t know. I guess _I_ was being a little bit of a drama queen.” Kurt shrugs and sips his coffee.

“And then some idiot had to throw out some cryptic tweets and sent you on a wild goose chase?” Blaine says, wincing before taking a sip of his own coffee.

“I was convinced it was about something else. That’s why I told Mercedes and Quinn I’d only come today if they came with me. And then by the time they had me convinced that it might _possibly_ be about me … no, nevermind,” Kurt says, stopping himself and busying himself with drinking more coffee. “It’s too embarrassing.”

Blaine pretends to be offended. “Excuse you, what’s more embarrassing than trying to track someone down by exploiting their three million twitter followers?”

Kurt quirks an eyebrow at him over his coffee mug. “That is true. I mean, they don’t know they were being exploited but …” He pauses, as if pondering whether or not to say it, and then sighs. “So, I thought even if it was about me, that surely you do this all the time or something and I just hadn’t noticed. We went pretty far back on your twitter feed last night checking … you tweet _a lot_ , by the way.”

“I don’t. I don’t do this all the time. I don’t _ever_ do this,” Blaine says simply, because he doesn’t. Anyone he meets on tour is purely for that purpose - someone to bring home for the night, and to never see again. It happens far less often than people think. It’s not someone he _pursues_ or wants to spend time getting to know or knows he wants to see again … all things he knows to be true from the little time he’s been with Kurt.

“You don’t,” Kurt repeats, as if he suddenly understands, and then - “Why me?”

“Why not you?” Blaine counters. “The first night I saw you, I was drawn to you - out of all those people, out of all those people I could barely see, because do you know how hard it is to make anyone out with those blinding lights on stage? I want to learn everything about you. I can’t explain it.” Kurt’s looking at him like he’s speaking another language. Blaine laughs lightly and prompts again. “You should tell me more about yourself.”

“Okay,” he says finally, laughing like he still can’t believe this is happening. “I’m an only child, and I live with my dad. It’s just us; my mom died when I was little. He’s dating a lady named Carole - her son Finn and I are in the same grade at school. We didn’t get along for a while, but things are better now. My dad and Carole are getting really close, I wouldn’t be surprised if they get married before we graduate. It’s good for him, I think. I’m glad he has someone, because I want to go to New York for college and I’m glad he won’t be alone.”

“Yeah? What do you want to study in New York?”

They talk for over an hour, and Blaine learns that while Kurt has never actually been to New York, he wants to study musical theater there. He learns that he works at his dad’s garage sometimes for extra cash, that he has a killer wardrobe and if the theater thing doesn’t work out he might do something with fashion as a backup. Kurt tells stories of glee club and how different this school year was compared to last year, though his school still sucks. Blaine can relate to all of that, having grown up in Westerville himself.

Finally Susan pokes her head in apologetically. “I don’t mean to be a bother, but some of us are dying to get out of here. Can you continue this conversation elsewhere?”

Blaine feels like an idiot for holding everyone up, because it’s twelve-thirty-four according to the clock on the wall, and while most everyone has cleared out, Susan and Rob can’t leave until they all head back to the hotel together, and surely there are people that work for the stadium that can’t leave until after they do. “Yeah, sorry, give us two minutes,” Blaine says sheepishly, running a hand through his hair, which is still lightly gelled and hairsprayed from the show. He takes Kurt’s empty mug and Kurt shakes his head, grinning a little. “What?”

“This is all just … so surreal still. I mean, you’re this big celebrity, and here you are, after a huge concert, in sweatpants drinking coffee with _me_. Who would have guessed? Well, maybe the sweatpants, I’ve seen pi-”

Kurt stops himself abruptly, and Blaine knows he was going to say he’s seen photos of him in the sweatpants. He does wear them all the time. Blaine wonders how long he’s been a fan, how involved he is online beyond following his twitter, but he doesn’t dare ask for fear of making Kurt uncomfortable.

“I know, my amazing image is shattered.” He offers Kurt his hand to help him off the couch, then they leave the room to find Rob and the car that’s waiting for them.

Susan and Rob are in the front seat, Kurt and Blaine in the back, and once they’re moving, Susan turns around to address them, passing them each an envelope with room keys in them, as well as Blaine’s phone. “We weren’t sure if your friends were waiting up for you or not, Kurt, so there’s a key to your room.” Blaine’s already checked in, but Susan holds onto his keys since he can’t keep anything straight, and he usually gets his phone back from her after the meet and greet unless he needs it in between a show and then, but obviously he was preoccupied tonight.

“Thanks,” he says, quickly scrolling through his notifications - god, he hasn’t checked them in five hours at this point.

“You didn’t even know you were missing that, did you?” He can hear the smirk in Susan’s voice. “Tweet something about tonight before you get inside and forget you have it again.”

Blaine thinks. The show seems so long ago now. _shoutout to my backup guys & gals who made the show EXTRA SPECIAL tonight. cleveland saw their magic! love my tour family!_ He then thinks of who has twitter and likes to be pimped out and at-replies all of them with a dash in front. It looks like some of them are posting photos from their own shenanigans from tonight and that’ll keep people busy trying to figure out if he’s with them.

Kurt’s phone vibrates with a text and he pulls it out quickly to silence it. Blaine doesn’t think anything of it. It could be the girls texting him to see if he’s ever coming back to the room. When the second text comes through, though, he has to stifle a laugh. Kurt mumbles something about unlimited texting and having lots of people on mobile notification. He busies himself with typing something, probably a text to Quinn and Mercedes on the status of his whereabouts, and Blaine doesn’t say a word.

Rob pulls up to the Ritz-Carlton and they wait while he checks the lobby and then ushers them to the elevator. “Goodnight, gentlemen, sleep tight,” he says as the doors close, and Kurt palms his pockets for his key.

“I didn’t even look to see what my room number is.”

“You’ll be on the same floor. We book out a floor, just in case. But did you want to come to my room? We could keep talking, we kind of got kicked out before. Unless you’re tired. You’re probably tired!” Blaine’s rambling, he knows it. His palms are starting to get a little clammy. This kid is making him _nervous_ , what the hell.

“I’m not tired,” Kurt says quickly. “I’d like that.”

“Okay. Okay, good,” Blaine says, breathing a little sigh of relief. Since he knows exactly where his room is, when the elevator door opens, he grabs Kurt’s hand on instinct, warm and pliant in his, and leads him down the hallway, marveling at how Kurt’s long fingers intertwine with his shorter ones, the solid weight he feels as they walk. When they arrive at the hotel room door and Blaine retrieves his hand to open it with his key, he notices Kurt stretching his hand a little as if it’s tingling.

He feels the same way, even though he knows it’s all in his mind.

“Do you want anything else to drink? Water or a soda or anything?” Blaine asks, toeing off his shoes once he’s inside. The suite has a seating area separate from the bedroom, and Blaine wishes it didn’t right about now, because he really wants to lie in bed. Not for any nefarious purposes, but because touring is exhausting and his body is protesting now that it’s seen a comfortable mattress with tons of pillows. Unfortunately, he can’t think of any way to suggest that when there’s a perfectly good couch and chair for them to use, so after Kurt refuses his hostly offers of beverages, he rolls his shoulder and collapses on the couch, hoping Kurt doesn’t mind the chair this time.

“Sorry, I’m not actually tired, my body is just angry that it had five shows in a row with no night off,” Blaine explains, gesturing to the chair as he massages the heel of his hand into his clavicle. “Feel free to get a little more comfortable.”

Kurt gingerly removes his leather jacket and places it on the back of the chair, revealing the same short sleeved tight white tee from the night before and sits down to remove his short black boots. “I can imagine everything takes a lot out of you,” he says, lining them up side by side next to the chair.

“Yeah, I mean, I love what I do and wouldn’t change a thing, but it’s brutal sometimes. We try not to do more than four shows in a row, but the scheduling lined up this way. Nothing until Thursday now though, so it’s worth it. My shoulder still gives me problems every once in a while because of some issues in high school.” Blaine sighs, rolling his shoulder again into the couch cushions and closing his eyes, and when he opens them, Kurt is hovering over him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Kurt blurts out quickly, lowering himself to the couch next to Blaine. “You said it was your shoulder? Do you mind if I try something?”

Blaine sits up with his back to Kurt and he feels Kurt place a hand on the shoulder he’s been rolling to work out the kink. Kurt runs his fingers along the top of it, as if he’s searching for something, and then presses his thumbs into a spot in between his neck and shoulder, kneading in slow, but forceful, circles. “Oh,” Blaine murmurs as Kurt continues to work at it, the warmth from his touch radiating over his skin, and Blaine begins to wonder how Kurt’s hands would feel on him if there wasn’t a thin layer of cotton between them.

“Better?” Kurt asks a few minutes later, after the only sound in the room is their steady breathing. Before Blaine can even answer, he says, “Carole, my dad’s girlfriend, gets these tension headaches, and I had a really awful one during finals last month. She showed me that trick. Apparently there’s a pressure point there, among other places, and I thought that might give you a little bit of relief.”

“It did. Thanks,” Blaine says, soft and sincere as he turns around to face Kurt. He puts a bit more space in between them on the couch because the air seems heavier than it did before, like there’s some sort of charged energy surrounding them. “I could keep talking about you all night, but is there anything you want to ask me?” he asks, smiling and propping his arm up against the back of the couch to rest his head on it.

Kurt’s eyes slip shut, as if he’s deep in thought and can’t decide where to begin. “What’s it like? To be up there on that stage and know that everyone is there for _you_ , that everyone is going to be hanging on your every word, every last note you sing? I’ve never even gotten a competition solo.”

Blaine can hear it in his voice, how badly he wants it, how much he craves the stage, not only for the sake of performing but to get out of Lima, out of Ohio. “It’s … indescribable. Nerve wracking, at first, but then it’s almost like you have a relationship with the stage, a relationship with the audience. Each time it’s different, and that’s what keeps you going. Even when you’re falling apart at the end of the night.” Blaine stares directly into Kurt’s eyes as he continues,wanting Kurt to really believe him. “You’re going to make it in whatever you pursue, Kurt, I can see so much determination in you. The fire in your eyes. Never give up that spark.”

“It’s nice to know someone believes in me. Other than myself and my dad,” Kurt adds, averting his gaze from Blaine’s and laughing.

“We’ll start the fanclub. Your dad can be president, I’ll be his VP. Of course, I think that would require me actually having to hear you sing,” Blaine prompts, not expecting him to actually take the bait.

[“ _And when he said he wants somebody else, I hope you know that he doesn't mean you. And when he breaks down and makes a sound, you'll never hear him the way that I do._ ”](http://youtu.be/x5brqWNW_Uo)

Kurt’s voice is high and clear and like nothing Blaine has ever heard. He’s singing one of Blaine’s songs, ‘He Says.’ It’s not off his latest album, but his first one, and Blaine is completely entranced and blown away. It’s not one of his more popular songs. It was never a single because it’s more singer-songwriter than even the slowest of his songs (and no radio station would dare play it with the pronouns the way they are), but it’s one Blaine’s always loved and fought to have on his debut album. He’s not quite sure if Kurt knew it was special to him, or if Kurt just happens to love it too.

When Kurt’s done, Blaine starts clapping slowly, mouth gaping a little. “I’m really glad I don’t sing that song very often, because it’s not mine anymore. You owned that. It belongs to you now. Your voice is _beautiful_ , Kurt.”

Kurt grins so wide, Blaine thinks his cheekbones might fall off. “Yeah? There’s really not a place for me -”

“You’ll make your own place. You’ll figure it out, because like I said, I’m blown away. I - I’m speechless. I’m not speechless often.”

Blaine had somehow gravitated closer to Kurt while he sang, that buffer he put between them completely gone. His knee brushes against Kurt’s, and the tip of Kurt’s tongue darts out, wetting his lips as if he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t, and oh god, Blaine’s heart is beating so fast and he wants to kiss Kurt _so bad_. Now his eyes are transfixed on Kurt’s lips and he’s _truly_ speechless, his own tongue too large for his mouth.

“Blaine,” Kurt hums as he places a hand on his arm on the back of the couch, his fingers five points of pressure in his skin. His voice is lower, almost sultry, and if Blaine was worried about not having a sign before about them both being on the same page, this is his sign. Kurt looks at him expectantly and rakes his fingernails down Blaine’s arm. Apparently, he takes too long, because Kurt runs his hand to the back of his neck and pulls him closer, so their faces are only inches apart. Blaine stares into his eyeliner-smudged blue-green eyes (a few hours ago, he only knew the color of Kurt’s _pants_ and now he knows the color of his eyes and wants to get lost in them, oh god), and as much as he wants to throw caution to the wind, he still has to ask.

“Please tell me you’re eighteen,” he begs, and he’s literally begging. He actually doesn’t care if Kurt’s younger, if Kurt lies and tells him he is, that’s good enough for him.

Unfortunately, Kurt doesn’t get the memo, because he freezes. “I - I just turned seventeen last month,” he replies quietly, and Blaine’s head drops to his shoulder with a sigh. “The age of consent in Ohio’s sixteen though, earlier in the year I was going out with this guy that was nineteen and I had to look it up in case the guys at school were assholes about it.”

Blaine grins against Kurt’s shoulder at the fact that Kurt’s already been able to date in Ohio in high school; he didn’t have the pleasure of dating until he’d moved out to Los Angeles. “I know,” he says, pulling back to address Kurt directly, “but I’m famous. It’s not just the law, it’s what would make a story if it got out. Trust me, I _want_ to kiss you, and I know you wouldn’t say anything, but if anyone saw -”

“If you want to kiss me, then kiss me,” Kurt says softly cutting Blaine off and tilting his head up with a finger under his chin. “Blaine, no one saw anything, and no offense, even if they did, they could already make up whatever they want, because you already invited me _in here_. We might as well get something good out of it …”

Kurt doesn’t wait for him to answer, just closes the gap between them and presses his lips to Blaine’s. Blaine isn’t stupid, he kisses back with fervor, running his arms up along Kurt’s back to keep him close because he might have been slow to convince, but now that it’s happening, he’s not letting Kurt go. His mouth fits against Kurt’s like that’s where it belongs, lips sliding against lips like nothing could possibly be better. The room is silent, save for the barely-there breathy gasps Kurt lets out every so often that Blaine can’t get enough of. Blaine wants to lay him out on the bed and kiss him _everywhere_ and see what other noises he can elicit.

“Oh my god,” Kurt breathes out when he finally breaks away to catch a breath, shaky and stuttering. His hand drops from Blaine’s neck to the couch, and he’s staring at Blaine as if he’s not sure he’s real. Blaine’s feeling the same way about him.

“Yeah,” Blaine pants, wiping at his forehead where he still has residue from the stage makeup from earlier. “Why didn’t you tell me you are not only the most interesting kid in all of Ohio, but the best kisser as well?”

Kurt quirks an eyebrow, his chest still heaving a little and says, “Are you trying to tell me you’ve kissed all of Ohio? Tsk tsk, Blaine. Unfortunately, I don’t really believe you since you’ve shown me your post-show ritual of coffee and sweatpants.”

Blaine furrows his brow before saying, “That sounds like a challenge. As if I haven’t shown you a good time so far and I need to make up for it.”

Kurt clears his throat before tilting his head back a little, the long expanse of his neck and collarbone visible just above the crewneck of his tee. “I certainly wouldn’t stop you.”

Blaine yanks at his tee, colliding their bodies together and causing them to fall backwards onto the couch with a surprised yelp. He gasps against Kurt’s lips as he turns them so they’re side by side, thankful that the couch is big enough for both of them but still small enough that Kurt’s body is tucked close to his, limbs tangled together from his sudden ambush, legs entwined, arms roving, hands searching.

With each press of their lips together, Blaine is left wanting more, like he can’t get enough of this beautiful creature who happened to fall into his life. Kurt’s expression is playful, his eyes gleaming, his lips curving into more of a smile with each and every single kiss. He angles his head to deepen one of them, nuzzling his nose against Blaine’s cheek, and Blaine’s hands find his hips, fingers digging at the pockets of his jeans to bring him even closer still. Kurt laughs a little as he kisses the corner of Blaine’s mouth and Blaine hums questioningly in response.

“It’s just - I can’t believe I’m kissing you,” Kurt whispers, almost shyly, and Blaine has to hand it to him, because the main reason Blaine wanted him so badly is because he had no clue he was barely seventeen. Had this happened to Blaine when he was barely seventeen, the gig would have been ruined before it even got started. Kurt must be freaking out inside, and Blaine’s had no clue up until this point.

“Well, I can’t believe I’m kissing you either,” Blaine counters, and Kurt rolls his eyes, and there it is, the sass that Blaine’s already come to know that means Kurt can handle himself just fine.

Blaine isn’t exactly proud of the whimper that escapes his lips when Kurt tugs at the same corner of his lip gently with his teeth, but it seems to just embolden him, the pace quickening and kisses becoming more frantic, both of their breathing becoming heavier and more erratic. Blaine tentatively runs a hand along Kurt’s side, and he arches into the touch with a moan, breathing sharply against Blaine’s neck. Apparently Kurt can’t get enough of him either.

“Y-yeah?” Blaine sighs around the question as his hand trails back down. Kurt nods as his eyes slip closed, tilting his head back up to kiss him a bit slower, changing directions and opening his mouth ever so slightly to invite Blaine’s tongue in. He takes the invitation, slipping his tongue between Kurt’s lips as his hand toys with the hem of Kurt’s shirt. Kurt’s fingers tangle tighter in Blaine’s tee where his hand is fisted, pulling him closer as they kiss, slow and wet and Blaine can’t remember the last time he’s just kissed someone with no other goal in sight.

As much as Blaine wants (and _oh_ , does he want), he’d also be perfectly content kissing Kurt silly all night. He’s unsure as to what, if anything, Kurt’s done with the guy he went out with (but it was obviously _something_ , because he wasn’t teasing when he said Kurt was a good kisser, good lord), but he’s letting Kurt make that call to go any further.

Their hips shift as Kurt continues to pull Blaine closer, legs slipping between each other, and Kurt’s cock brushes his thigh, already hard in his tight jeans. Blaine shifts to the side so Kurt can feel he’s hard in his sweatpants too, and he groans, grabbing Blaine’s hips to steady him so he can rut against his thigh. “Oh god, Blaine, you’re so-”

Kurt throws his head back a little, getting lost in it, and once he gets over how goddamn gorgeous he is in that moment, Blaine takes the opportunity to explore the column of his neck with his tongue, laving over the hard lines and soft flesh. “Blaine - Blaine, can I -” Kurt gasps, fingers scrabbling at the back of his neck, and Blaine’s unsure what he’s asking for, but he grunts out something resembling a yes because Kurt can have _anything_ of his he wants.

Kurt’s palms find the swell of Blaine’s ass, tugging him closer until their hips slot together _just so_ , their cocks brushing against each other. Blaine groans loud against his neck, rolling his hips against Kurt’s, which makes his grip tighten. They rock like that, delicious friction building between them through far too much fabric, Blaine mouthing at Kurt’s neck before he realizes sending him out into the world all marked up will do nothing to support his paranoia of ‘nothing happened.’

“C’mere,” Blaine whispers, haltingly, nosing at Kurt’s chin until he ducks his head and Blaine can reach his mouth once more. Their kisses are off-center and messy at this point, arousal taking over and making it hard to focus on anything unrelated to getting them off. Blaine’s starting to get close, between Kurt’s gorgeous hands still firmly planted on his ass and Kurt’s cock hard against his (which, okay he hasn’t seen, but he’s willing to bet it’s gorgeous anyway), he knows he won’t last much longer.

“B-Blaine, I-” Kurt stutters, hips pistoning forward as one of his hands moves up Blaine’s back, under his shirt, fingernails grasping at bare skin for something to hold onto. He thrusts one last time before dropping his mouth wide open, but no sound comes out as his orgasm hits, Blaine watching on in pure adulation. He always gets something out of watching someone come, but Kurt’s expression is purely euphoric. Blaine hasn’t ever attempted to write his own music, and yet he suddenly understands why people might feel compelled to.

When Kurt comes down, he kisses Blaine once, slow and sweet, before whispering, “Now you,” directly into his ear. The burst of hot air makes him shiver, and Kurt just laughs as he slides his knee between Blaine’s legs, his fingers dancing down the back of Blaine’s sweatpants. Blaine jumps, because he’s _so close_ and Kurt is _teasing_ and he just needs a little bit more …

Kurt just smirks, as if to say he knew Blaine liked him grabbing his ass, and gives him the friction that he needs. Kurt keeps licking at the same spot under his ear, obviously not caring if he marks him up, perhaps _wanting to_ , as Blaine ruts against his thigh, digging his fingers into Kurt’s bicep just before he comes at last. Kurt’s blinking at him when he finally opens his eyes, staring at him in disbelief for probably the tenth time that night.

“You okay there?” Blaine asks, grinning a little goofily, because orgasms always make him stupid and silly and giddy.

“Yeah, I just - I still can’t -” Kurt trails off, shaking his head and saying nothing besides matching Blaine’s grin and leaning over for one more kiss. Blaine doesn’t prompt him for anything else, lets him have his moment. He winces as he rolls back over, and Blaine immediately wonders what he’s done wrong, but Kurt quickly says, “I, ah, am going to need a shower sooner rather than later.”

Blaine’s eyes widen. He really doesn’t want Kurt to leave yet. “Oh. Oh! Well, you could use mine. I’m sure your friends are asleep by now, you don’t want to wake them up, so if you stay here you could take your time and I could lend you something to wear. Plus,” he whispers, lowering his voice, hoping Kurt will buy his lousy excuses and stay, “I have the suite, so my shower is going to be way better.”

“Yeah?” Kurt asks, seeming to ponder the offer. “I guess that sounds like the more reasonable solution. You sure that’s okay?”

“Of course! There are towels and stuff in there, so just let me know if you need anything.” Kurt smiles at him and gives him one last kiss before getting up off the couch gingerly.

Blaine figures he should be the gentleman and wait outside, as much as he wants to head to the bathroom and rip Kurt’s clothes off. He’s lost in his own thoughts, trying to think of decidedly unsexy things since he knows Kurt is going to be naked in minutes a wall away and he’s not going to be there to see it, when he realizes Kurt’s paused in the bathroom doorway and is about to say something.

“I was thinking, it really isn’t fair to hog your shower. I mean, you need to use it just as much as I do, and you haven’t even been able to take one after the show because you’ve been entertaining me.” Kurt pauses for a moment, as if he’s pondering something, steeling himself for whatever he’s about to say, before smiling softly and asking, “Did you maybe want to join me?”

“I would love to,” Blaine replies almost too quickly, getting up off the couch to join him in the doorway, unable to contain the excitement in his voice. Kurt just chuckles and casts his gaze downward, and Blaine knows he keeps thinking he can’t believe this is happening to him, but Blaine honestly can’t either, and all he wants is to figure out a way to make the night go on for as long as possible.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaine’s heart wants to make promises of more, promises he doesn’t know if he can keep, so he says nothing, simply sliding his lips against Kurt’s again, hoping Kurt understands how he feels. The sex & the aftermath.

_It’s just tonight; you just have him tonight. Don’t screw this up._ Blaine makes his way across the room, trying to think quickly on his feet. He’s had a few hours with Kurt, a few hours he’s hoping to turn into a few more, and that’s probably all they’ll ever get. Somehow, Kurt must be able to read his mind, because he reiterates that exact point the instant he’s near.

“I just figured I should make good use of this gorgeous man while I have him in front of me,” Kurt explains as he closes the gap between them, tracing his finger over the collar of Blaine’s tee. Blaine’s heart wants to make promises of more, promises he doesn’t know if he can keep, so he says nothing, simply sliding his lips against Kurt’s again, hoping Kurt understands how he feels.

“I think I might have actually gone crazy knowing you were in my shower … naked and wet and beautiful … all by yourself …” Blaine places a kiss at the tender spot next to Kurt’s ear just to watch him grin before stepping around him to go start the water.

Blaine walks into the bathroom and fiddles with the knobs of the shower. The stall is expansive, more than enough room for two, the Roman tub off to the side. He hopes he’s able to convince Kurt to stay the night - it would be nice to lounge in the tub the next day, though he’s sure Kurt and his friends have responsibilities to get back to and parents that are already going to kill them for adding another stop to their road trip. When he turns around, satisfied with the water temperature and pressure, he notices Kurt’s gaze snap up sharply, cheeks flushed and oh, he just caught Kurt staring as he was bent in the shower, didn’t he?

“See something you like?” Blaine asks teasingly as he moves into Kurt’s space, cupping his face to kiss him just so. Kurt seems flustered at first from being called out, but eases into the kiss fast enough. “I know I do,” Blaine ghosts against Kurt’s jaw, noticing how he shivers. He knows he’s being a bit ridiculous, but like Kurt said, it’s prudent to take advantage of the opportunity while it presents itself.

Blaine’s clothes are far easier to remove than Kurt’s, his simple sweatpants and tee and nothing underneath (even the underwear he wears on stage is regulated so sometimes he just doesn’t bother), and Kurt’s barely pulled his own shirt off over his head before he’s stopped to stare. Granted, Blaine’s doing some staring of his own as well, but …

“Oh my god, you _don’t_ wear anything under those sweatpants. I’m never going to have a pure thought about them again.” Kurt’s fingers are frozen on the fly of his jeans, so even though Blaine would love to continue objectifying, he also would like to hurry the process up. He saunters over to where Kurt is standing, tee discarded on the floor, and lets his hand hover over Kurt’s, over the buttons on his jeans.

“May I?” he asks, voice far too sweet for his intentions, and Kurt nods, moving his hand out of the way. He unbuttons all of the buttons and helps Kurt shimmy the pants down his thighs and over his ankles. Kurt bends down to pull them off with his socks, and then Kurt’s standing in only his tight black boxer-briefs (and his cock is already half-hard again, fucking _teenagers_ , Blaine’s mouth starts to water instantly after seeing it encased in Kurt’s underwear, he’s going to be so screwed once it’s out). “God, you’re …”

Kurt tilts his head to the side, eyebrows bunching up. “Have I left you speechless twice tonight?” It’s Blaine’s turn to nod, just once quickly before crashing their lips together. He tries to walk them towards the shower stall, backwards and fumbling without stopping, and Kurt laughs, loud and bright at his attempt. “You’re ridiculous,” he says as they stumble over each other’s feet, Blaine reaching backwards for the glass door for stability.

Blaine grins wickedly once he’s caught himself, reaching for the elastic waistband of Kurt’s boxer-briefs when Kurt blurts out, “I’ve never been naked with anyone before,” and sighs immediately after, his eyes slipping closed. Blaine’s hand stills as he waits, unsure, but then - “I don’t know why I told you that, oh my god.”

“Because it’s a big deal?” Blaine prompts, which is the wrong answer from the way Kurt’s eyes fly open.

“But it’s not. I’m not freaking out or anything. I invited you in here. I’ve done stuff that can theoretically be done naked, it just wasn’t - oh god, are you really going to make me use the phrase ‘shirts on and dicks out’?” Kurt adds at his confused expression, and Blaine can’t help but to burst out laughing.

“I’m sorry, you’re just kind of adorable when you’re freaking out.” Blaine brushes a stray strand of hair off Kurt’s forehead and kisses him, soft and slow.

“I’m not freaking out,” he protests quietly when they part. “Trust me, you’ll know when I’m freaking out.”

“Well, if you’re not freaking out -” Before he can even finish, Kurt’s yanked off his underwear and slid open the glass shower doors, shutting it quickly behind him as he enters so Blaine has to reopen the door himself. “Hey!”

“Didn’t want to let any of the steam out,” Kurt explains, already under the spray of the giant showerhead, though his tone tells Blaine that’s not the real reason at all. Blaine steps in, making a big show of sliding the door tight for that very purpose, and watches as Kurt lathers a washcloth with the body wash Blaine already left on the side earlier. Blaine doesn’t even care if he’s brazen in watching him run the thick, white terry cloth over his smooth, porcelain skin, because no one’s been lucky enough to witness this and he’s revered at the fact. Kurt’s cock is gorgeous, just like he knew it would be, and it’s staying interested enough either from the fact that Blaine’s watching or from the friction from the washcloth or both.

Blaine watches Kurt work the body wash up into a rich, foamy lather over his skin. He watches it run with the water in rivulets down the lines of his back, down the curves of his ass, down his strong thighs and calves. His mouth is still watering; he wants to throw Kurt up against the wall of the shower stall, to kiss him everywhere, to fist his cock until he comes again. He wonders how many times he can make Kurt come tonight. He really needs to convince him to spend the night if only for the recovery time.

“See something you like?” Kurt mimics back to him, and he’s smirking, and Blaine is wrecked. He’s just so _wrecked_ and Kurt knows it.

Kurt quickly washes his hair and goes to wash his face before saying, “You don’t happen to have any face wash handy? I thought I saw some on the sink.” Blaine blinks back at him before nodding and stepping back out, cursing the cool air on his skin as he races to the sink.

Kurt grins at him when he returns. He takes the bottle from him with a soft “thanks,” washing his face thoroughly before reaching for the washcloth and before lathering it up again and pulling Blaine into the spray. “You look like you’re going to need some help,” he says, letting Blaine get wet before starting to lather him up nice and slow. Blaine’s thankful for his earlier orgasm or he might have embarrassed himself from the rough drag of the washcloth over his sensitive skin and the way Kurt’s looking at him with wide eyes and parted, wet lips. Each nerve of his body stands to attention and begs for more, and as sure as he is that Kurt would give an amazing scalp massage, when he’s done lathering him up, he quickly rinses off and washes his own hair. He has other plans.

When Blaine kisses Kurt, it’s dirty from the start, all tongue and teeth, and Kurt backs them up to one of the shower walls with a thud. Blaine kisses his way down his neck and suddenly, feels the need to tell him everything. “You’re so goddamn gorgeous. You turn me on so much, Kurt,” he mutters in between kisses, down further to Kurt’s collarbone, and he hears him gasping above. “I wish you knew how I feel -”

“I do know. I can see it in your face when you look at me,” Kurt says reassuringly. Blaine stops what he’s doing and looks up at Kurt, who just loops an arm around his neck to pull him into a kiss, deep and searching. “Let me touch you.”

Blaine’s mouth drops open slightly and all he can do is nod. He’s been hard again since Kurt was rinsing off (who wouldn’t be at that sight?) and when Kurt wraps his hand around him, he almost cries out. As Kurt begins to pump his fist, the steam in the shower begins to dissipate just a little, but everything is still warm and wet where it counts. Blaine mouths at whatever skin he comes into contact with as Kurt holds him close - shoulder, collarbone, neck, and just as Kurt’s really getting into it, twisting his wrist a little on each stroke upward and driving Blaine mad, he asks, “Tell me what you want to do to me? What you would do if you really had the time.”

“Oh god, Kurt,” Blaine moans, and his hips thrust forward involuntarily through the circle of Kurt’s fist. “I-I want to kiss you everywhere. All of your beautiful skin. It’s all I could think about when you were rubbing the washcloth all over your body. How good you must taste. How amazing your cock would feel in my mouth.” Kurt’s grip tightens and quickens at Blaine’s last line. He wonders if anyone has ever blown him before, whimpering at the thought. Blaine can feel himself getting close, can feel the familiar tightening within, which seems far, far too soon, but he can’t really think about that right now. He closes his eyes and focuses on the sweet pull of Kurt’s hand back and forth on his cock, the special attention being paid to the head, and he finally asks brokenly, “I get to touch you next, right? Please, please, _please_ -”

“Yeah,” Kurt breathes out, running his thumb over the head of Blaine’s cock to spread the precome down his length before adding, “I’d let you do all that other stuff too, you know.”

Blaine comes almost instantly and there is _no way_ Kurt is leaving before he finds a way to make that happen. His head is still spinning when he reaches between them to return the favor, his grip firm and sure from the start. He delights in the loud groan that escapes Kurt’s lips at his touch, and by whispering just a bit more detail in his ear, Kurt’s pulsing over his hand in no time.

After washing themselves off a second time, Blaine makes the sacrifice to leave the warmth of the shower and get them towels to dry off with. They keep stealing glances at each other as they stand on the tile floor and pat themselves dry, and finally, Kurt breaks the silence as he wraps his towel around his waist, asking, “I believe you said I could borrow some of your clothes?”

Blaine heads to the closet to grab two pairs of sweatpants and two tees. He’s not sure who does it (it probably varies), but Susan has someone unpack his suitcase at each stop. It’s a nice touch when he’s on the road for so long.

He walks out into the main area of the hotel room to find Kurt checking his phone. A glance at the clock on the nightstand tells him it’s nearing three. “Thank you,” Kurt says to him as he takes the clothes, smiling softly. They both pull on the items, and when Blaine turns back to him, his breath hitches. Kurt’s a little broader in the shoulders than he is, so the tee is pulling, and there’s a little strip of his stomach showing, and oh god, no, there’s just no way he’s sending him back out into the world tonight.

“So,” Kurt says, smiling a little wider, phone still in hand. “You’re probably exhausted and want me to -”

Blaine’s eyes are still transfixed on the skin showing between the shirt and sweatpants. He wants to lick and bite it _badly_ and when Kurt starts going on about how exhausted Blaine must be, he starts at the same time, saying, “I don’t know if I can let you leave dressed like that.”

Kurt doesn’t even finish his sentence, just raises an eyebrow as if he’s perplexed. “Oh really now?”

“Yeah.” Blaine walks over to him and traces two fingers along his abdomen, right where there’s not enough shirt to cover. “You look so much better in my clothes than I do. I think I need to drag you to my bed, finally, and do all the things to you I told you I wanted to and somehow convince you that you need to stay until morning. I mean, it’s already going to be morning in a few hours anyway.”

Kurt blinks and looks away, as if he’s contemplating before trying not to grin and saying, “Isn’t - isn’t checkout like ten am? Quinn was worried about that. We have to drive back to Lima tomorrow and it doesn’t matter when we get back, but I have to do the driving and I should probably get _some_ sleep.”

“Kurt,” Blaine replies, trying not to laugh. “Do you really think they’re going to kick anyone on this floor out at ten am? We technically have all the rooms tomorrow night too. The band and dancers are all still out, and I know they’re not back yet, we would have heard them. They’ll probably sleep in until _three pm_. If you don’t have to be back, no one is going to kick you out.”

“Oh,” Kurt says slowly, obviously processing the information. “Well, I don’t have any of my stuff.”

Blaine grins, because he’s got an answer for everything. “What do you need? You’ve got clothes to sleep in, you’re already clean, so besides maybe a toothbrush which I’m sure I could wrangle up for you ...”

Kurt just stares at him incredulously. “Blaine, where are you going to find a toothbrush at three am?”

He simply wiggles his eyebrows in response and heads towards the phone on the desk in the corner. What’s the point of being famous if you don’t get to take advantage of the perks?

He dials zero for the front desk and someone picks up promptly. “Good evening, Mr. Anderson! This is Judy, what can I assist you with?”

“Good evening, Judy! I’m so sorry for bothering you so late. I do hope you’re having a fine evening,” Blaine says with as much charm as he can muster, hopping up on the desk so he can face Kurt as he talks on the phone. He gives him a wink, and Kurt just shakes his head in disbelief.

“I can’t complain, and don’t apologize, sir.” He can hear the smile in her voice and he knows it won’t be a problem at all getting what he needs.

“Well, you see, it’s kind of silly, but I had an unfortunate mishap with my toothbrush and the toilet and was wondering if you happened to have any more on hand? If not, do you know if there’s a drugstore nearby?”

Kurt stares at him like he’s insane then, probably because he’s thinking he’d go down the hall to his own room and wake his friends to get his stuff before traipsing through Cleveland to find a drugstore for a stupid toothbrush, but that’s not the point. This lovely woman is not going to make him go to a drugstore. She’ll find someone on staff to go to a drugstore first.

Judy chuckles softly before saying, “Oh, I’m sure we can track one down for you somewhere. I can’t leave the front desk but let me page the housekeeping manager and see what we can do.”

“Thank you so much, Judy! It’s no rush. I’ll be up for a little bit, so take your time.” He smiles sweetly at Kurt as he cradles the phone back in its holder, crooking his finger in Kurt’s direction and motioning for him to come to where he’s still sitting on the edge of the desk. He hooks his ankles around the back of Kurt’s thighs, pulling him so they’re flush against each other.

“Now see, what else could you possibly need? Whatever it is, I’m sure we can work it out. You’re not going to leave me here with two toothbrushes, are you?” Kurt’s staring at him silently, the corners of his mouth turning up just slightly. Blaine’s pretty sure he’s got him, but he needs to be sure.

“Okay, bringing out the big guns. Plus, if you decide to leave and I don’t get to do this, I’ll be thinking about it for _weeks_ …” Blaine hops off the desk and drops to his knees, and Kurt looks a little startled at first, like he doesn’t know where Blaine’s going with this. The sweatpants are still slung low across his hips so there’s plenty of skin for him to taste, and Blaine _just can’t help it_. He flattens his tongue against the taut muscles of Kurt’s stomach, running his mouth slowly across, dipping it into the crease that’s just starting to peek out on the side. Kurt gasps sharply and tangles a hand in Blaine’s damp curls, and yeah, somehow Blaine thinks he’s being pretty convincing.

“I - I should text Mercedes and Quinn so they don’t worry.” Blaine grins against the soft flesh of his abdomen and squeezes at the sharp angle of his hip before standing so that they’re [[at]] eye level.

“Seriously, though, if there’s anything else you need, let me know. I’ll do anything to make you happy,” Blaine adds, locking eyes with him before sealing his promise with a kiss, which turns into more than just one. They both jump when they hear a knock on the door, and Blaine’s pretty sure it’s the quickest toothbrush delivery in the history of toothbrush deliveries.

He rushes to the door, thanking the housekeeping manager profusely for bringing it up on such short notice and at such a late hour. After closing the door, locking the deadbolt and hooking the safety chain, he turns back around to see Kurt messing with his phone again.

“It’s almost dead, but I can just turn it off and turn it back on in the morning. I have a car charger and can just charge it on the drive.” He finishes typing and looks up to meet Blaine’s eye and grin at him, letting him know he has his full attention once more.

“You have an iPhone, right?” He’s already seen that Kurt has one, but he asks to be polite. When Kurt nods, he continues. “Me too. I have an extra charger, give me a second.” He walks over to his messenger bag that’s on the floor by the desk and pulls out two long white cords. “Once you leave one in a hotel room, you travel with two just in case.”

He plugs both of them into the outlets on the desk lamp and grabs his own phone off the coffee table to charge it before holding out his hand for Kurt’s. As he’s plugging Kurt’s phone in to charge, a text notification lights up the screen as it vibrates simultaneously - _**Mercedes Jones** GET IT BOY!!!!!!!_

Blaine can’t help grinning and laughing a bit and Kurt looks mildly horrified. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I’m sorry!”

Kurt grabs the phone back and starts blushing the instant he reads it, his cheeks tinged pink, the flush spreading down his neck. “I didn’t tell them anything, I swear. I just told them I wouldn’t be back to the room until the morning and we didn’t have to worry about rushing out.”

“You can tell them whatever you want,” Blaine replies, still chuckling as Kurt types out a response. He swats at Kurt’s rear end with the toothbrush package before turning and saying, “Come on, let’s get ready for bed.”

Blaine’s running a little bit of gel through his hair when Kurt joins him in the bathroom (he doesn’t want to wake up with a frizzy mess, but he’s not going overboard), and he rinses his hands before reaching for his facial moisturizer. “Do you mind if I use some?” Kurt asks, reaching for the tub as he approaches the sink. “I’m also missing my nightly skin care ritual, but like you said, it’s almost morning, so this will have to do.”

“What’s mine is yours,” Blaine says, winking at Kurt’s reflection in the mirror as he grabs his tube of toothpaste from his toiletry bag. They brush their teeth in silence, stealing glances at each other in the mirror, and after so many weeks in hotel rooms, so many weeks of the same thing and being alone over and over again, the simple act of brushing his teeth with someone else is pulling at Blaine’s heartstrings.

Moisturized and refreshed, with both toothbrushes situated in the complimentary glasses, the two leave the bathroom and climb into bed. Blaine pulls back the covers and _god_ , it feels amazing to finally lean against the pillows; it’s a good thing he’s still completely enthralled by Kurt or he could fall asleep instantly. “I’m really glad I stayed,” Kurt says quietly, laying down on his side and reaching out to bring Blaine closer to him.

“Me too, I’m really, really glad,” Blaine replies, burying his face against Kurt’s neck and breathing him in deep, trying to commit his scent to memory. The shirt he gave Kurt has a v-neck, so he noses his way down, planting kisses as he goes and running a hand up underneath the hem, along the muscles of Kurt’s stomach that he’s already had the pleasure of becoming acquainted with. He tilts his gaze up questioningly, and Kurt laughs.

“God, you move fast.” Blaine wants to reply that _nothing_ following will be fast, he’s going to take all the time in the world, but before he can respond, Kurt’s raising his arms and yanking off his shirt and toying at the hem of Blaine’s as well. “You too,” he adds with a slight smile, and Blaine can’t fault him for wanting to see as well.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” Blaine says, voice dripping with honey as he rolls Kurt on his back, “we can slow things down.”

Kurt’s eyes are trained on his lips, so he ducks down to kiss him, slow and deliberate just like he promised. They kiss until their lips are oversensitive, until Kurt is gasping below him for more, and finally, Kurt pulls his head back so Blaine misses his lips and hits his chin instead. “ _Blaine, please._ ”

Blaine trails over to Kurt’s ear, sucking the lobe in his mouth and flicking it with his tongue. “Mmm, thought there was some concern about moving too fast.” Kurt’s hips buck as he continues to tease it, rolling it between his teeth. God, he can’t get over how responsive Kurt’s body is. He’s only just begun.

In an effort to appease him, since Kurt just lets out a frustrated whine at his comment, Blaine skips over most of the skin he’s already toyed with, making a beeline for Kurt’s right nipple, capturing it in his mouth. Kurt arches off the bed for more, breathing out sharply, and Blaine’s mouth forms a grin as his tongue flattens to lave against the nub that’s quickly forming. His thumb catches on Kurt’s left, rolling it between his forefinger, and this time, when Kurt’s hips jolt, he can feel his cock hard against his thigh. Blaine groans at the contact, Kurt’s nipple still between his lips, sending vibrations over his skin, and Kurt ruts against his thigh again, groaning himself.

This is going to be over far too soon, far before Blaine gets his lips around Kurt’s gorgeous cock, so as much as it pains him to move on, he pushes gently at Kurt’s hip, keeping him planted on the bed as he makes his way down his stomach, closer to his intended goal. He’s nosing just above Kurt’s waistband, where he already lavished attention earlier, and he hums a bit as he unties the drawstring of the sweatpants with his teeth (which he knows is totally a dorky move, and Kurt’s eyebrow raising in disdain tells Blaine he thinks so too, but he can’t resist).

“So,” Blaine starts as he eases the sweatpants down over Kurt’s hips and thighs, finally exposing his perfect cock as it bobs back towards his stomach. Now that Blaine is far closer than he was in the shower, he definitely stands by the gorgeous comment, long and thick and so hard again already. “So,” Blaine repeats, sighing deeply to commit Kurt’s scent to memory even more.

“So,” Kurt mimics, cupping Blaine’s cheek to bring his attention upwards to his face. “Less talking.”

“More sucking?” Blaine counters, curling his lips up playfully, and Kurt laughs as he drops his hand to the bed.

“You said it, not me.” He breathes in sharply as Blaine runs his tongue over his lips, wetting them thoroughly, before kissing down the shaft. He continues kissing along the length, letting his tongue dart out to trail over prominent veins and ridges, and above him, Kurt’s muttering broken off phrases like, “Oh, _oh_ ,” and “ _god_.” Blaine glances up, and he’s thrown an arm across his eyes, peeking out from underneath it every so often to steal a glimpse, as if watching and feeling is far too much.

“You should watch,” Blaine says as he pulls his mouth off the base of Kurt’s cock, his voice coming out a bit gravely. He hears a thump to the mattress, Kurt throwing his arm down, and Blaine locks eyes with him as he takes the head of his cock in his mouth, just for a few seconds before he has to look down and focus on what he’s doing. In those few seconds though, Blaine can see the immediate pleasure wash over Kurt when he wraps his lips around the head, knows how good he’s making it for Kurt, how good he hopes it feels.

Kurt’s cock feels amazing in his mouth, a warm and solid weight on his tongue. He stretches his lips wider and takes him down further, nice and slow, and Kurt’s not saying anything anymore, just gasping and moaning, and it’s like music to Blaine’s ears, egging him on. He starts to work a little faster, licking and sucking with more vigor until he finds a rhythm, bringing his hand from Kurt’s hip to wrap around the base and stroke in time with his mouth.

“Oh, B-Blaine, _Blaine_.” If Kurt’s moans were music to his ears, the chanting of his name is the crescendo, something within him twisting hotly at each breathy utterance despite the aching of his jaw and the itching of his fingers. Kurt’s thighs are shaking underneath him and Blaine wants to tell him to not hold back, to just let go, but that would involve him stopping what he’s doing and there’s no way that’s happening. So, he just takes Kurt deeper, faster, ignoring how messy things are getting, the way saliva is dripping everywhere. He can tell when Kurt gets close, because he starts to squirm, like he can’t figure out if he should pull away from Blaine’s mouth, but Blaine’s not going to let that happen. Kurt whines his name one last time, horribly broken and it’s his turn to be completely wrecked. Blaine’s not even sure how Kurt’s able to have any come left, after three orgasms in so many hours, but he sucks down every bit all the same, marveling in amazement at the human body (and more specifically, Kurt’s gorgeous one).

“You’re kind of incredible,” Kurt whispers as Blaine crawls up to lay next to him. “I keep thinking I must have just hit my head on the way to the show and I’m really in the hospital somewhere and this is all some elaborate dream.”

Blaine grins then, big enough that his cheeks puff out and his teeth show, and he doesn’t know where Kurt’s line is on post-blowjob kisses (or even if he has one), but he kind of needs to kiss him. He keeps it brief, and suddenly Kurt’s grinning too. “Nope, I’m just as real as you are, swear.”

Kurt wraps a hand around Blaine’s neck to bring him close enough to brush their lips together again, humming happily, and Blaine hums back, saying, “If you’re tired, we can just go to bed. Like you said, you should get some sleep and I _really_ don’t know if I can come again.”

Kurt laughs sharply. “You make it sound like you’re an old man. You’re twenty-two,” he says, blushing slightly, probably at the fact that he just gave away the fact that he knows Blaine’s age. “Plus, where’s the fun in that?” Kurt brings his free hand to Blaine’s chest, pointing a finger at his ribcage. “I’m always up for a challenge.”

Blaine’s pretty exhausted. He hears faint laughing and stumbling in the hall, signaling the arrival of his band mates, which means it’s _late_. Still, despite his exhaustion, he’s got adrenaline pumping through his veins due to the beautiful creature in front of him and how is he supposed to resist that? “Yeah?” Kurt offers him a coy smile and kisses him again, and Blaine has to admit, he’s driving a pretty hard bargain.

Their kisses are languid and easy, already having discovered what the other likes after a few short hours together. Blaine would be stupid to turn down _anything_ Kurt offers him, and when Kurt stifles a yawn, Blaine tries to ignore it just as he does. Kurt makes his way down Blaine’s neck and collarbone, slow and lazy, and he’s sucking an angry mark at the crook of his neck something fierce when he stills.

Blaine slowly opens his eyes to find Kurt breathing steadily on top of him. “Hey,” he says quietly, rubbing a hand over Kurt’s arm, and he jolts awake.

“Oh my god, what am I doing falling asleep when you’re right in front of me?” he blurts out, sounding actually offended at himself, and Blaine chuckles.

“Hey, I’m falling asleep here too. I was just going to suffer through it because you’re amazing. Really amazing.” Blaine kisses Kurt once more as if to prove his point. “I think we both need to get some sleep though. It doesn’t take away from the fact that tonight was _perfect_.”

“Yeah?” The way Kurt’s face lights up at Blaine’s mention of _perfect_ is one of the best moments of the night. “Okay,” he concedes, sitting up to grab the sweatpants and tee, tossing Blaine his shirt.

“We could still cuddle if you want,” Blaine says, hoping he doesn’t sound too eager, but he honestly can’t remember the last time he cuddled with someone, fell asleep with someone holding him or holding someone close.

“That sounds like a wonderful end to the evening,” Kurt replies softly as he pulls his tee over his head. After some discussion about who should go where, Kurt ends up pressed against Blaine’s back, his breath tickling the hairs on his neck and his arm looped around his waist, their hands intertwined. “Goodnight, Blaine.” Blaine wants to answer, to tell Kurt goodnight, but he’s so warm and safe and close to drifting off, he simply lets himself drift.

***

The next morning, Blaine’s mind wakes up before the rest of him. He realizes he rolled over at some point during the night, and Kurt’s arm isn’t securely around his waist anymore. He has a momentary bout of panic wondering if Kurt snuck out while he slept, but he can’t send the signal to his brain to open his eyes to check. When his eyelids finally decide to flutter open, he finds Kurt propped up on his elbow staring back at him with tiniest smile on his face, as if he’s been caught once again. “Mmmm, could stand to wake up next to you more often,” Blaine murmurs, crawling closer so he can bury his head in Kurt’s chest and the fabric of his tee shirt. “Have you been up long?”

“Not too long. The girls are restless.” Kurt pouts at him, his lower lip jutting out and Blaine has to resist the urge to pull it into his own mouth. “I had a pretty nice view until you woke up, though. That sounds creepy, me watching you sleep, but I’m owning it.” 

“Not creepy at all. I’m sure I would have done the same thing.” Blaine places a smacking kiss to Kurt’s neck before pulling back to look at the clock. It’s approaching noon - no _wonder_ the girls have been on Kurt’s case. “Oh god, I’m sorry for sleeping so long. Sometimes that happens with so many shows in a row … and you kind of did wear me out.” He crawls up Kurt’s body further to kiss his cheek in apology and Kurt just grins and sighs simultaneously. He knows Kurt has to get moving, so he reaches for his hands to drag them both out of bed. “Come on, let’s go brush our teeth so I can kiss you properly.”

After remedying that fact, Blaine leans across the sink to cup Kurt’s cheek and pull him close, and it must catch him off guard because he hears a tiny gasp escape Kurt’s lips before he covers them with his. Their lips glide over each other and their tongues slip alongside and it’s too bad both of them have responsibilities, because Blaine could lose another day to kissing.

“I suppose we should get cleaned up,” Blaine finally says, regrettably breaking away. He runs the shower, and while it’s not the luxurious bath he hoped for, stealing kisses while they soap each other up isn’t half bad either.

Blaine goes to grab them new clothes to change into, but Kurt says not to bother for him since he’s just going down the hall. He can just throw on the clothes he slept in because he’ll change into something when he gets to his room. Blaine pulls on jeans and a polo. He’s driving back to Westerville tonight to see his parents and to see some of his friends from Dalton. They’ve all just graduated from college, so Nick is throwing a party at his house and made sure to pick a day Blaine could attend, even if it is a _Monday_. He’ll change once he’s at home, but his outfit works just fine for the quick drive after his debrief with Susan.

Blaine walks back out from the closet to find Kurt and takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he’s about to ask next. He’s been toying with the idea all morning, trying to figure out what to do, but he just can’t let Kurt walk out the door without any way to contact him. Not after the lengths he went to track him down. “Hey, can I see your phone?”

Kurt looks at him curiously, but hands it over. “Yours hasn’t really shut up all morning either. I didn’t pry, but someone’s looking for you. It almost vibrated off the table.” Blaine grimaces before clicking on Kurt’s contacts and adding his number under the name _Blaine Devon_.

“There.” He hands the phone back to Kurt before saying, “You don’t have to give me yours if you don’t want to, but now you have my number. You can call or text anytime, or just forget I exist, whatever.”

Kurt just stares at him in disbelief, before saying softly, “As if I could forget you exist.” He reaches out for Blaine’s hand and grips it tightly. “Plus, I mean, you’re kind of everywhere right now.”

They share a laugh, and Kurt calls Blaine’s phone from his. “There, now you have mine too.” Blaine walks over to the desk, unplugging his phone from the wall and noticing the missed call, as well as a multitude of texts from Susan, talking about how plans for the week had changed and was he really still sleeping or was he just still with his boytoy?

“You probably need to go,” Blaine says sadly as he sets his phone back down on the desk. Susan can wait another five minutes. Kurt nods, his expression matching Blaine’s tone, and when he walks over, Blaine envelops him in a tight hug. “I’m not saying goodbye to you. We have each other’s numbers. Please promise me you won’t be a stranger? Because the last fifteen hours have been incredible, Kurt.”

“I promise,” Kurt replies instantly before saying all of the things left unsaid with one last kiss which may not be a goodbye kiss, but it certainly _feels_ like one. Blaine watches from the doorway as Kurt walk down the hall in Blaine’s sweatpants and his boots, carrying his clothes from last night and his jacket draped over a shoulder, and when he’s halfway down, he turns around, grinning, to blow him a kiss and a wave. There’s a spring in his step the rest of the way down the hall and, oh, how Blaine wishes he could be a fly on the wall for the conversation he’s about to have.

When Blaine walks back in, he’s still smiling pretty hard himself and he sees his clothes from last night still in a pile on the bathroom floor. He decides he should probably pick them up before they get all damp from the steam in the room, and when he does, he realizes they’re not the ones he wore last night. They’re the ones _Kurt_ wore, which means Kurt left wearing the ones he wore last night.

He picks them up quickly, bringing the tee shirt to his nose and breathing in deeply, and sure enough, it smells exactly like the wonderful, gorgeous boy he woke up to this morning.

It turns out he should add _brilliani_ to the list of adjectives he uses to describe Kurt.

***

“My _god_ , I was about to send out a search party,” Susan exclaims when she opens her hotel room door and ushers Blaine in. “And I hate to break it to you, but your four days off turned into about twenty hours at this point because we’re on a flight to New York at ten am tomorrow. Pink cancelled on Jimmy Fallon, so you’re filling in, and Dayna is seeing what other press stuff she can throw together for Wednesday for a last minute push before the East Coast dates. I’m sorry,” she huffs, finally seeing Blaine’s distraught face. “I made sure you’d be in Westerville tonight though and it seems as if last night went well?”

She’s smirking at him as she zeroes in on his neck and Blaine swallows thickly. He hadn’t really taken a good look at himself in the mirror earlier. He’d still been in Kurt’s presence while he was in the bathroom, which was a distraction to say the least. “‘Well’ is an understatement,” he finally says, and she laughs.

“I’ll have to see if Lauryn can find you something to wear tomorrow with a scarf.”

Susan walks over to the desk to grab the itinerary for Blaine, who just retorts, “I was supposed to have four days before going back in public!”

Blaine rushes back to his room to do the quickest pack job ever with his abbreviated vacation time, hoping Susan will check the room again before she leaves. It’s a little over two hours to Westerville, and if he leaves soon, he might be able to make it there before rush hour hits. His stomach is also reminding him he hasn’t eaten anything in close to twenty-four hours and it’s not entirely happy about that fact.

Finally at two, he’s throwing his bags in the rental car and locating the nearest Starbucks on his phone for a latte and a sandwich. Blaine wonders if Kurt’s already halfway to Lima now, or if he and the girls stopped for lunch so they could grill him on everything. He calls his mother to inform her that unfortunately, he’s just joining them for dinner this visit. She’s sounds disappointed for a moment, but then launches into her usual bright cheeriness and mentions that she and Blaine’s father are just happy to see him at all.

He tries not to spend the whole two hour drive thinking about a boy who he spent just over twelve hours with, half of which were sleeping hours. He can’t let some boy turn his whole life upside down.

It doesn’t work.

***

Blaine is the last to arrive at Nick’s. Since he’s not seeing his parents again, his visit takes longer than expected, his dad showing him every little home renovation project he’s been working on since his last stop through Westerville and his mom going on and on about her new treadmill. He loves his family but it certainly isn’t a stretch to see where Cooper gets his self-centeredness from. 

He knocks on the door and Nick’s mom opens it, greeting him with a giant hug. “You look good, Blaine,” she says, smiling and patting him on the cheek. “I worry about you. All of you boys, but especially you. You work _so hard_.”

“I have a little bit of a break coming up. Maybe I’ll come home for a few weeks, it’s been a while.”

She beams back at him. “I know your parents would enjoy that. Now, go on, the boys are all in the basement. I’m headed up to my room. I was just waiting until you got here.”

When Blaine makes his way down the basement stairs, he hears the shouts and the clatter, Nick’s “fucking _finally_ ” and Thad’s exclamation of his name. These are boys that were there for him when he was a lost fifteen year old at Dalton and that were there for him when he was nineteen and didn’t know if he wanted this life anymore; boys that he doesn’t have to have pretenses around and can be his real self.

He felt himself letting his guard down and being his real self around Kurt. That should scare him but it doesn’t.

There’s hugs and teasing about the rock star showing up late and then Jeff’s asking him if he needs a drink, because they’ve obviously started without him and he needs to catch up. “You have no idea how badly I need a drink,” Blaine replies with a laugh, running a hand through his hair.

Jeff presses a very light looking vodka cranberry in his hand that must be mostly vodka. “You didn’t go out with everyone last night? I saw Iris tweeting up a storm.” Blaine hasn’t had a chance to check twitter, but Iris is his drummer and she tends to get tweet happy after a few drinks.

“Does he look like he was out drinking last night? Blaine looks like he was otherwise preoccupied to me,” Nick teases, and Blaine blushes at his words. He finally caught a good look at himself in the bathroom at his parents’ and there are two prominent marks visible on his neck. He’s pretty sure he feels another one on his collarbone under his shirt.

“Good for you, Blaine! I always say you don’t get laid enough for being a rock star,” Thad proclaims, and oh, he is not having this conversation with them.

“Guys, you know I’m not really a rock star,” Blaine deflects. He’s a pop star at most. “Enough about me! I want to know everything, graduation and jobs and everything I’ve missed.” He hasn’t seen anyone since Christmas, so it’s bound to keep everyone preoccupied.

Hours later Blaine’s … well, he’s definitely drunk, but he’s not sloppy. He knows he has to leave at eight for the airport; he knows better by now. Becoming a singing sensation at eighteen taught him a lot about alcohol tolerance very quickly. He and Trent are sitting on the floor, nursing their last drink. Trent’s going to school in Boston, going on to get his masters in … something in the social sciences? He wants to teach. Blaine was fed a lot of information and a lot of alcohol all at once. “You’re happy, Trent? I mean, you’re always happy, but?”

Trent grins his signature grin at Blaine. “You know it. And you? You seem happier tonight than you have lately.” Blaine looks at him questioningly and he continues. “I saw you on Ellen a few weeks ago and you seemed … tired. And Ellen’s like me, happy all the time, pretty infectious. I know touring takes a lot out of you, but tonight you seem really happy. Invigorated.” Trent leans over closer to Blaine to whisper, as if he’s telling him a secret, clapping a hand over his shoulder. “All I’m saying is that if something or someone is responsible for that change, you should hold on to that.”

Blaine blinks back at Trent. “You always know all the right things to say, Trent.” He might have three crazy weeks ahead of him, but he certainly has some thinking to do in his downtime.

***

What Blaine realizes on his flight to New York is that he doesn’t necessarily have to make the first move. He gave Kurt his number first - and maybe he can coax a little contact out of him.

(Hey, if he’s stuck doing press the next two days, at least he can have a little fun with it. And yes, realistically the mature thing to do probably would have been just to text Kurt, but it seems too soon, _and he has no idea what he’s doing_.)

So, he tweets all goddamn day. He tweets about flying to New York to do Fallon. He makes Rob take a photo of him and Susan next to a sign in the Columbus airport so he can tweet that, and Susan looks perpetually annoyed. He tweets about loving New York. When they get to NBC, he takes a close up photo of his face and the name on his dressing room, and it’s a little grainy, but you can partially see the hickeys on his neck. He thinks about retaking it, but he tweets it anyway, because he’s evil. His fans probably think it’s the best day ever and Kurt Hummel probably hates him.

That totally wasn’t his intent. But as the day goes on with no contact, he realizes how silly the whole thing was and he probably should have just texted Kurt to begin with. Now it just seems like it’ll be even sillier.

Blaine goes out to dinner with some friends who live in the city, friends he met through the industry who are nice enough but he’s not in the mood to be on tonight. He makes it back to his hotel room in time to catch his interview and flicks on the TV.

On the TV screen, Jimmy asks him about his time back in Ohio, and Blaine watches himself light up at the question. God, Trent was right. He’s so obvious. “I mean, anyone who knows my story knows I didn’t have the best time growing up. But even still, Ohio’s my home and always will be. Whenever I go back to play shows there, it’s always really rewarding for me because I always meet so many people that touch my heart, so many people I can relate to on a personal level. I’ve lived in LA for four years now and it’s just nice to have that still, you know? To have that connection, that connection with someone who can really understand where you’re coming from.”

“Yeah, totally,” Jimmy says, nodding. “It sounds like Ohio was good to you.”

“Ohio was! But this whole tour really has …” Blaine grins, glad that he caught himself before getting too off track. He picks up his phone, opening the contacts to Kurt Hummel and letting his finger hover over the ‘send message’ button to bring him to the new text window from his contacts. 

In the end, he tosses his phone on the table in the corner of his hotel room, messages unsent, and grabs the v-neck shirt out of his luggage that still reminds him of two nights ago, throwing it on the pillow next to him and falling asleep wishing he wasn’t alone in his bed.

***

It’s two weeks later before he finally talks to Susan, back in New York after playing Madison Square Garden. He’s nursing a rum and Coke from the mini bar in her hotel room and she’s getting annoyed with his presence. “You obviously have something you want to talk about or you wouldn’t be hovering,” she says with a sigh, throwing down her tablet and taking the glasses off her face.

“I think I’m going to go back to Ohio for a bit when the tour’s over for a few weeks. Have a little staycation. Maybe try and see Kurt.” She quirks an eyebrow at him like she can see through his bullshit.

“There’s the kicker. Why are you asking my permission? You want me to dig up dirt on the kid and make sure he’s not some crazed fan? Oh fuck, he’s not eighteen, is he?” She raises her fingers to her temples and rubs, grabbing a bottle of whiskey from the mini bar for herself.

“He will be in ten or eleven months?” At this, Susan puts down the half-empty can of Coke, and opts for drinking the whiskey straight. “I think the bigger problem is that he’s still in high school. He, ah, is only going to be a junior next year.”

“Jesus, Blaine.” She knocks back her drink and Blaine realizes his is empty. He heads to the mini bar and grabs them two more bottles. Why do mini bars insist on having such small bottles? “Do you think he’s in for secrecy?”

“I didn’t really ask him,” Blaine says, topping off their glasses. “I … I don’t know what he’s in for.”

“ _Blaine_.” Susan laughs at him and tucks an errant curl behind his ear and days like this, she reminds him of the sister he never had. There’s a little dash of Cooper’s sparkle in her eyes, the part of Cooper he holds dear. “Do you really think he’s going to turn you down? If this is what you really want, we’ll figure it out. You know I’m here to fix whatever you’re honest with me about.”

Blaine says nothing, and she pats him on the cheek, giving him a smile. “I could put together a backstory in case it all comes out, plant some seeds. He’s from Ohio, right? Maybe your dads know each other. Old family friends. It’ll go with all that bullshit you spewed on Fallon. What? Like I didn’t know that was for him.”

Blaine sucks on an ice cube, staring her down. There’s no point in trying to deny it, she knows him too well after four years together. She’s watched him grow up and become who he is today. She only wants him to be happy. “We said we’d keep in contact but neither one of us has contacted each other.”

“That’s because you’re both clueless morons and you communicate better in person. Come on,” she says, nudging their glasses together as she leans over the table. “Three more shows and you can go get your boy.”

***

It’s late when the final show in Boston finally ends. They run long and the band coaxes Blaine to do a special encore, and there’s an after party at some swanky bar afterward to celebrate the tour completion. The band and his backup singers and dancers and the crew have really become his family over the last few months, and as glad as he is to have some time off, he’s going to miss all of their smiling faces greeting him day in and day out. He’s glad to have a night to celebrate them.

Finally around two, there’s enough of a lull for Blaine to steal a few moments for himself. He finds a table in a corner and pulls out his phone, checking his tweets multiple times for typos since he’s been drinking. _what a beautiful end to a tour, Boston! thank you to everyone who made this tour special I LOVE YOU ALL!!!!_ followed by _sorry for getting sappy on you, there’s just a lotta love in this room tonight & I had to share it :)_

He then finishes his drink, takes a deep breath, and finds Kurt’s name in his contacts. He doesn’t expect him to be up, but he sends the text anyway, before he loses his nerve. _Have a little time off coming up. Thinking about spending it in Ohio. Know anyone that information might interest?_ He takes another breath and sends another one, because enough beating around the bush. _(By which I mean, I’d really like to take you out to dinner sometime.)_

His drummer, Iris, walks by, noticing his drink is empty and he’s not dancing and pouts at him. “I’m going to the bathroom and when I get back this whole scene is gonna change!” She twirls and Blaine laughs, about to pocket his phone and forget about his boy drama when he sees a notification pop up.

_I have no idea why you’d want to do that, but I certainly can’t complain. I might be able to squeeze you into my busy schedule. :)_ And then if things couldn’t get any better, _(By which I mean, yes. Definitely yes.)_

Blaine just grins stupidly at his phone and is still doing so when Iris returns. “You look like you’ve won the lottery, boy,” she says gleefully, throwing her arm around his shoulders.

“I have,” Blaine responds, putting his phone away, because he certainly doesn’t need money. He lets Iris lead him out to the throngs of people dancing away, because he’s got a ticket on the next plane out to Ohio and a date with Kurt Hummel and a song in his heart, and that’s everything he could ever need.


End file.
